


Relief Is In the Bottom of a Bottle

by silvermax



Category: Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Character Study, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pre-Canon, Short One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-15
Updated: 2020-07-15
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:07:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25268848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silvermax/pseuds/silvermax
Summary: Wracked with guilt and shame, Haymitch turns to the only escape he knows.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 5





	Relief Is In the Bottom of a Bottle

**Author's Note:**

> Title taken from Kendrick Lamar's "Swimming Pools" (the extended version).

A young man sits in his house, alone as usual. He dispassionately takes a drink from the bottle in front of him. The liquid burns his throat, but he's stopped caring. In fact, over the years, he's come to like the burn.

Most nights, he sees their faces. His mother, his father, his little brother. And Maysilee.... _especially_ Maysilee. He'll hear her laugh, or see her toss her head. But most of the time when he sees her, he sees her in her last moments, her neck impaled by the bird's long beak. He'll see the desperation in her eyes, and hear her breathing get ragged until it stops altogether.

He has no one now, he knows that. Every moment he spends in this big, empty house reminds him how truly alone he is. He survived, but at what cost? When President Snow wanted to sell his dignity, he stood his ground, and look where _that_ got him. Victory is meaningless if so many have to die for it.

He takes another big swallow, hoping the numbness will set in soon. It's better to stay numb, to detach from this existence. Deep down, he knows he's no better than his father, or the homeless drunks who hang around the Seam. The only difference is that he can wallow in his self-hate in plush comfort.

He can feel each part of his body start to go numb, starting with his lips. He knows by now that if he keeps drinking, his surroundings will become bleary and muffled, soft enough not to hurt him. He'll start to lose himself in the warmth that suffuses his body. And eventually, he'll sink, sink, sink, into that deep, dreamless darkness he always enjoys.

He'll be sick tomorrow, he knows that, but he doesn't care. He reaches for the bottle once again.


End file.
